Scotland 2016: Golf in St. Andrews
May 25, 2017
Apologies for the extended delay between posts here – As you can tell, JK and I made up for the fact that his father was unable to join us for the epic trip to Scotland, and naturally we had to blog about that too. (See “Sand Rocks“)
On to Fife/St.Andrews!
Summary: In this section, I’ll discuss the particulars of our visit to the New Course, the Old Course, the Eden Course, the Jubilee Course, and Kingsbarns. Various and sundry other locations in and around Scotland will be noted and discussed accordingly.
After our whirlwind time in East Lothian with our new friends, and in particular crossing the behemoth of Muirfield off our respective bucket lists, JK and I hopped in our tiny rental car (he drove) and we made our way to Fife as quickly as possible. One quick tip here, it is helpful to have someone in your party that can drive stick, and then drive stick completely backwards. There is no shot we’d have made it to Fife if I were the one that were driving. Fortunately, we were able to navigate our way to our lodging at Agnes Blackadder Hall, and then over to the St. Andrews Golf Club. We met with our host there who took us over to the New Course.
The New Course
As with most of the humor in Scotland, the name of this course in somewhat tongue in cheek. The New Course was built in 1895.
In a word, I’d describe the New Course as comfortable. Without a doubt, it truly is a links course. The New is tucked between the Old and Jubilee Courses. Indeed, many of the front nine holes play adjacent to the Old Course, and it is even possible to play some of the New Course holes from Old Course fairways if you hit wayward tee shots. However, the lack of major championship history for this course or indeed, much general knowledge about any significant professional or other championship golf reduced the insane urge that we felt to perform well in storied theaters. JK and I stepped up to the first tee here with our host and were able to just play. We hoofed our bags, chatted with our host about golf, Scotland, the U.S., politics, food, etc., and managed to get a perfect introduction to the history and culture around golf in St. Andrews.
The New Course essentially acts as the locals’ home course. Naturally, when tee times are available on the Old, they will take them as we would, but when the opportunity arises to shove off work early or get in a late afternoon round, the New Course is the first option. As you might imagine, the course gets less play than the Old, so rounds take less time. One would think that conditions might be better with less play, but it would be doing a disservice to the Old Course to make that assertion. Links turf is remarkably different to any turf that is commonly available in the U.S., and is very hearty. The greens tend to run a bit slower, of course, but no less true.
The New Course also has incredible views of the surrounding area, and of its two neighboring courses.

View from 9th tee, I believe?
Upon ranking the St. Andrews Courses and trying to decide where we would advise our readers to play during their own trips, we agreed that the New was certainly one that folks should incorporate into their rotation if they are in St. Andrews for multiple rounds.
That Night
The date is August 4, 2016. The time is 4:15 AM. Two lunatics arrive at the starters tent at the Old Course upon the advice of their host earlier that evening to queue up before the break of dawn to the following scene:
Believe it or not, at 4:15 AM, JK and I are respectively 11th and 12th in line for the standby list to play the Old Course. So we sit there for what feels like 2 days in the cold waiting for the shack to open. We try to catch some zzz’s… Some more creatively than others:
But eventually we are told that we should come back at 2pm and that we should have a tee time shortly thereafter.
Dutifully, we arrive at 1:30 and are told that we are to report to the first the tee at 3:50pm. Ecstatic, sleep deprived, and hungry, we trudge over to the Dunvegan pub. More on this amazing place later.
The Old Course
The words that come to mind when I think about the Old Course: Timeless, Unique, and Epic.
What can I say about the Old Course at St. Andrews…. Well, I sat for about two hours pondering this exact question, and it turns out that I could say quite a bit. However, what I’d say you could read in any number of likely much better written reviews than this one. JK’s initial post about our trip sums up my particular experience with the Old Course, which was memorable to say the least. (Not so humble brag… I shot 74, my career low to date).
I’ll limit my observations on the Old Course to the following two:
- If there were only 1 course I could play for the rest of my life, it would be the Old Course at St. Andrews. If this were the case, I’d still play golf every single day, and twice on Saturday because it’s closed on Sunday.
- If you get a chance to play, on your way back in, be sure you pay attention to the town of St. Andrews on the horizon periodically. It’s truly awe-inspiring to see this tiny little town grow and grow until it surrounds you as you walk back toward the R&A clubhouse. This is one of the coolest unintended effects of the Old Course that I feel is an underrated part of the experience. A very small piece of this is captured in the images below.
The Dunvegan Pub (again)
Yeah, we got hammered after that round. And drank more Kummel.
The end.
The Eden Course
The one memorable thing about this course was that we almost played the wrong hole at one point. Had we not run into the only other person playing this course, we likely might have only played 11 holes and wondered where the rest of them where.
I shot 78, JK did not. Our thoughts as we were waiting for the shuttle back to the Old Course clubhouse after the round: “why did we just play that course?” Guess you can’t win them all.
The Jubilee Course
The Jubilee course, like Spyglass Hill, is a wonderful example of a course that would be more well-known if were located more than 10 yards from one of the most famous courses in the world. This course was truly fun. The course felt a bit shorter than the other links courses that we played, but much tighter and more fraught with danger. Nearly ever hole includes some incredibly menacing rough or bunker that a careful player must avoid or contend with. I honestly can’t remember a single shot that allowed the player to lay back or make a small mistake. That being said, I also don’t remember hitting a single long iron, so really, there shouldn’t be many mistakes…
The Old Jigger Inn
JK ate Haggis. Gross.
Kingsbarns
And finally, one of the true jewels of this trip – Kingsbarns. This Kyle Phillips masterpiece was truly one of the finest courses I’ve had the chance to play.

Panoramic view of 18 from the clubhouse at sunrise
To get a few non-golf things out of the way: 1) the non-golf experience at Kingsbarns is far more typical of the experience at a high-end U.S. resort than the other Scottish links. That is to say, there are at least two sets of tees that almost no one should be allowed to play for the sake of enjoying the game, the food and drink are actually quite good, and your wallet is going to be a good bit lighter when you leave. This is due in part to the fact that the owner of Kingsbarns is actually an American that lives in Pleasanton, CA. 2) The clubhouse was one of the best I’ve seen anywhere, ever. 3) They have their own whisky. It’s really good.
Regarding the golf: awe-inspiring is the phrase that comes to mind for me. Nearly every hole has an epic view of the North Sea. The whole course was built upon a fairly flat spit of land, and apparently required over 200,000 cubic meters of dirt to be moved for its construction. This allowed Kyle to create some truly stunning golf holes that likely wouldn’t be easy to form naturally. It is one of the few courses we played that had any kind of a forced carry, but even those felt quite manageable.
One hole that stood out to JK and me as not really fitting with the rest was the par three 15th. This hole required a forced carry over part of the North Sea to a tucked green. While it was a great hole in its own right, it didn’t feel like it fit with the typical style of the area.

View from the 15th tee at Kingsbarns
JK also took issue with driveable par four 6th hole. I’m not sure why, honestly. I loved it.

View from the 6th tee at Kingsbarns. (Hole is above the two bunkers on right side)
In my opinion, Kingsbarns could be one of the best ever. It looked as epic as Pebble Beach on every tee shot, played like a true links, and had incredible shot value. While some shots didn’t fit the true links style, the result is still a course I feel could be imminently playable any time of the year, and could certainly host an Open Championship any time. The one piece of advice JK and I agreed on for this course that we wish we had followed was to take a caddy. Oh, also, I hope you’ll agree, Kingsbarns was far and away the most photogenic course we played.
Odds and Ends (Rapid Fire Edition)
- If you get a chance/invite – visit either the St. Andrews Golf Club or the New Club. Great insight into the difference between the attitude toward golf in the U.S. and Scotland
- Agnes Blackadder Hall is the best kept secret for lodging in St. Andrews. Your own room, good shower, and breakfast for £40 a night. We booked using Hotels.com.
- If you’re going to wait in line at the Old course, get there at 4am or earlier. Bring warm clothing and sleeping bag.
- Amazing pro tip: there are LOCKERS at New Course Club House that you can use for free (£1 refundable deposit) that hold a full size golf bag. Store your crap here between rounds, or while you’re waiting in line to play the Old Course. Be careful about leaving things overnight though – not sure of the policy here.
- If you’re a stickler for having “official” gear, be careful of shopping anywhere else besides the St. Andrew’s branded pro shops at the clubhouses. There are lots of duplicates and unofficial suppliers, but that doesn’t mean they don’t make good stuff.
- Belhaven’s Best Beer. Locals call it Bell’s Best. Drink it.
- If we were going to do it again, we’d eliminate the Eden, and wait in line to play the Old again. If you want other recommendations in the area, we heard great things about Crail and the Castle Course.
- Finally, if you’re lucky, you might get a view like this one before you leave:
Thank you for reading!
POTW: Flushing It
April 27, 2017
I’m not exactly sure how to write this kind of post, but it’s a good problem to have. This week’s (year’s?) POTW goes to me. Why would someone give himself an honor? Because I’m the king, and on Monday of this week, I earned my own throne.
On Monday I played in a 4-man scramble benefiting a local elementary school. Like most scrambles, the tournament featured close-to-the-pin contests and a long-drive competition.
However, the long-drive competition was unlike any I’d ever entered before. Not to brag, but I’ve won more than my fair share of long drive prizes, including one combo long + straight drive. But I had never won–or even entered–a challenge like the one presented on Monday. A donation to the school from a contractor prompted a special type of long drive competition, likely chosen by the donor. The challenge? See how far you can hit a ball–and here’s the important part–while sitting on a throne, and you win….
a throne.
A porcelain throne.
In other words… a toilet.
Yes, you read that right.
With installation.
In a scramble golf event, my long drive won me a toilet. On the par 4 tenth hole at Shadowridge Golf Club in Vista, California, I hit–from a partial squat position with my posterior resting on a plastic toilet seat–a *flushed* (see what I did there) driver of almost 250 yards up the middle of the fairway. As I took the long drive card from its prior position and moved it to my ball, I only wished that someone had gotten it on video, because if you weren’t there, you wouldn’t have believed it.
And now, I’m curious from our readership–what weird stuff have you won at a golf tournament? Feel free to comment below. I bet it’s not as crappy as my prize =).
Sand Rocks
February 9, 2017
As you grow older, influences of people and events on your life–and the meanings associated therewith–grow with you. Something that you experience one day may have a completely different meaning when you’ve grown 10, 15, 25, 50 years older. Perspective gives you patience and understanding of the deeper significance of events in your life…at least for me.
With that context in mind, I’ll give you some background on the story I’m about to tell.
Like so many, I was introduced to the game of golf by my father, who in turn was introduced to the game by his dad (my grandfather). My father was one of 7 kids in his family (6 boys); golf became one thing that kept them together. My grandfather was not an easy person to get along with, so the game was a chance for some in my dad’s family to spend the kind of time with their dad that they wanted to remember. Even in my own experience, some of the fond memories I had of my grandfather before his death were either playing or talking about golf. Growing up, my fondness for the game was built as much out of nostalgia as it was my own interest in the game itself. Playing the local muni with my dad was something we could bond over; having my uncle (dad’s brother) take me to The Masters remains one of the greatest golf experiences of my life, some 20 years later.
Dad never had much growing up (probably on account of being one of seven children, amongst other things). As my dad told me many a time, the only thing my grandfather ever bought for my father was a set of MacGregor Jack Nicklaus Signature blades as a high school graduation gift (which he still has in his basement somewhere). Visiting a special golf course was very much an exception rather than a norm for us during my childhood. In listing some of the “great” courses we’ve played, the top of my dad’s list included East Lake (which we got on after I joined a law firm that had a membership there for a short period of time), followed by Glen Abbey (which he got me on as part of a fundraiser while working in Canada), and then… NCR in Kettering, OH, which hosted the 1969 PGA Championship. Despite nearly 50 years golfing, my father had known little more than muni tracks across the US. He always played them like they were the best he could have had, and he had a real knack for finding the best day of the month to play on. One of my best memories was–most years, at least–finding a day somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s Day to go out and play a round (I grew up in Georgia, and the weather oscillates a lot at this time of year). He earned the nickname “fair weather Fred” over the years for his uncanny ability to pick the best day there was.
In truly divergent fashion, readers on this blog will know that LG leaves no stone unturned when searching for a great golf experience. It’s been mostly tagging along with him that I’ve had opportunities to play Spyglass and Spanish Bay (our first golf trip together), Shadow Creek, Wolf Creek, St. Andrews, Royal Troon, Carnoustie, Olympic Club, the California Golf Club of San Francisco, and so many more that I simply couldn’t list them all. I’ve also had opportunities to play Peachtree Golf Club, Torrey Pines, Piedmont Driving Club, Reynolds Plantation, and several other truly great courses through some very fortunate circumstances.
My dad is also one of the types of people for which there’s always “someday.” If I had a nickle for every time my dad said “someday we’ll do ________” or “someday, when we get a little money, I think it would be neat to ________” then I’d probably not be willing to spend my time examining the finer points of what golf means to me for a blog.
Devoted readers of this blog will also know that LG and I went to Scotland on a Trip-Of-A-Lifetime type of golf getaway in August of 2016. Nevermind LG’s exceptional play that made it even more memorable, the trip featured visits to some of golf’s greatest and most historic courses. At 66 years old, my dad declined the chance to go, I’m sure for one of the many reasons that only a father can know. LG and I had an incredible experience.
In my conversations with my dad afterwards, he sounded disappointed.
For himself.
And I was too. He should have been there, if we’re being honest about it.
Life and time have brought me good fortune and some wisdom (I hope, at least). It was shortly after that time that I decided dad needed his own mini-experience to make up for missing Scotland. I plotted out with LG when we could make our way to San Francisco to visit him and play some courses in the area, including LG’s home track. It was a rather small idea that grew into a rather big one.
LG: “let’s pick some dates in January.”
JK: “sounds good. How about the weekend of 1/15-16? We’re going to go to Las Vegas first but then head up your way”
LG: “that works. Oh, wait, my course is closed on Monday. Could you switch your trip?”
JK: “can’t. Could we play somewhere else on Monday?”
LG: “no, most of the courses here are closed on Mondays.”
…
LG: “Wait….how about Pebble?”
JK: “Pebble Beach?”
LG: “Is there another course named Pebble around here?”
While it had certainly occurred to me on many occasions to take my father–the man who introduced me to the game–to a place like Pebble Beach, I have to admit that I never actually planned to do it. Frankly, planning a trip is hard; it requires coordinating people’s schedules and figuring out dates and commitments. In some ways, I certainly fall into my father’s “some day” mentality.
But that wasn’t happening today. LG signed us up for a tee time on January 16, 2017. When Christmas came, I told my dad we were going to go play some golf with LG in San Francisco.
Only I didn’t tell him everything. Here’s roughly how the conversation went down:
JK: “So we’ll get there on Sunday, January 15, and play LG’s course. Then, I think his course is closed on Monday so we’re going somewhere else.”
dad: “Do you know what it’s called?”
JK: “eh, you’ll have to ask LG that.”
Over the course of the next few days, I mentioned to LG that we were going to make this a surprise (as much as a round of golf can be). Then, the light bulb went on, and I said “if he asks you where we’re going, just tell him Sand Rocks.”
“Sand Rocks” was, of course, a pseudonym for Pebble Beach, what with pebbles being a subset of rocks and beaches being made from sand. LG chuckled, “you really think he isn’t going to figure that one out?”
As the time grew closer, it turned out that San Francisco–and most of the northern California area–experienced some ridiculous storms (http://www.accuweather.com/en/weather-news/weekend-storm-to-unload-widespread-heavy-rain-in-western-us/70000459). Many trees at LG’s course were felled during the rain and after. LG’s course was in unusually damp condition, with branches downed all over. With the bad weather, it easily could have rained out our plans for the following day. But what were we going to do? The trip had been scheduled. We packed up and prayed for good days.
The trip happened. I showed my dad around Las Vegas, a place he hadn’t really experienced in detail prior. Then we got on our flight to SFO. Now, at this point, he knew:
(1) we were not playing LG’s course on Monday
(2) we were getting up at 5:00 am to go play a course at an 8:10 tee time
(3) we were planning to fly out of San Jose that night, not SFO.
(4) the course was called “Sand Rocks”
We landed in SFO and took the legally-mandated Uber ride to LG’s course. Then we teed off and walked around the track. Dad quit after nine holes from being tired (and, of course, the bar at LG’s course didn’t hurt either). We had a quick dinner in the city then got to bed. Then we got up at 5:00 and started.
Many thanks to LG for driving us all the way down. SF is not close to Carmel, and the drive certainly wasn’t easy at 5:00. At one point, it was 37 degrees F outside. It was still dark. But as we approached the course, things started to warm up.
LG began asking my dad what his favorite golf experiences were; he asked what the best courses played were; he asked if my dad had ever been out to Pebble Beach before. My dad answered all his questions honestly and earnestly…
…and he had no clue where we were going.
We passed road sign after road sign saying “PEBBLE BEACH GOLF LINKS, NEXT RIGHT”–still nothing. We stopped at the guard gate at 17-Mile Drive, the well-known entrance to Pebble Beach Golf Links, and said “we’re playing the course today.” Still nothing. As we drove in, my dad told his story of walking out on the 18th hole at Pebble Beach–“it’s a really neat place,” he said. “You see all these houses and you go, ‘My God, how fortunate do you have to be to live in a place like this.'” He also threw in a gold nugget: “ya know, it would be wonderful to play it some day, but not at the price they’re charging for it. It’s too expensive.”

did you read the signs?
LG pulled the car into a parking space in front of the course. We took all the bags out and set them behind the car, gathering our items for the round. It was there, standing at the precipice of one of the most historic courses in the world, that I decided to let him in on the secret.
JK: “dad, did you put in your contacts today?”
dad: “I only put one in, my eye hurts a bit”
LG: “you need to get your stuff out of your travel bag, right?”
JK: “well, yeah, I guess…….
Hey dad, did you read the sign?”
After about 15 seconds of reading and pondering what had been right in front of him all along, my dad turned around with a puzzled look on his face.
“I thought you said we were playing this other place?”
and then it hit him. He broke into a full grin. He chuckled at himself, trying to figure out what he should say. He fumbled over his words, not realizing if we were serious or just playing a joke of some sort.
“I told you this place is too expensive,” he managed to get out with a huge grin.
He finally knew where we were, what we were doing. 50 years of golfing, he finally got to be a part of it, not just to watch it on a screen or walk from the sidelines–he got a chance to do it. At one point during the round he remarked “I wouldn’t have chosen to come here with the way I’m playing now.” I couldn’t help but wonder if, when, and how he would ever be better than he was that day. And that’s when I understood–somewhere along the way, I learned that the game isn’t about the way you play it, it’s about the experience you get from it. It’s about getting things out of it that you never knew were there. It’s about finding things within you that you needed to know about yourself to fully understand who you are.
Our caddie mentioned that we had picked the perfect day to play. It seemed only fitting. “It rained all last week,” he said, “and it’s supposed to get overcast and cold tomorrow.” We walked the course at 65 degrees F in full sunshine. Fair-weather Fred did his part.
In a moment I’ll personally never forget, dad and I both hit the green on the 17th. It was probably the only one all day.
We took picture after picture, then finished our round, had a putting competition on the practice green (which LG won, of course), had a drink at the bar, then sat out by the 18th green for awhile just contemplating what had just happened. In a lifetime on the golf course, I don’t think I’d ever seen my dad seem so much in-the-moment as I did that day. We both played pretty good rounds of golf, all things considered.
And dad managed to narrowly avoid plummeting to his death in Stillwater Cove.
Then we went home.
Pride, hope, achievement, reflection.
As ephemeral as those feelings can be, they are the reason we do this. Even when it’s expensive, even when it’s not perfect, even when we know we could play better, there really isn’t much that compares to experiencing the pinnacle of a lifetime’s devotion. My dad never asked for much and never needed to have that experience. He could have gone his whole life never setting foot on the hallowed ground of the game–at least, not as a player–and probably would have never noticed a thing. But having been one to have that experience gives him something he will never let go of for the rest of his life. And, frankly, the same went for me. Just watching him live out something he could have only dreamt of a few years earlier showed me just how far we had come. And, starting tomorrow, he’ll be able to watch the best in the world take on the course he now knows just a small part about. Even if he could have done without it, it is priceless in its own right.
That…is why we love this game.
Looking Back, Explanations, and What’s Important
March 9, 2016
I want to start this post off by apologizing…first, for the wall of text, but also for the unreasonable delay in posting the wall of text. Hopefully the ramblings that follow this apology make sense, hit home, and lead into something.
A little over five years ago, LG and I were sitting around watching golf, predicting what the commentators would say (rather accurately, if I might so brag)–lo and behold, the PF was born. We came up with interesting ideas for content, subject areas to dedicate to our readers, unbiased reviews, etc. etc. We were ready to take on the world. Then some funny things happened. Like…life.
In the time since the blog started, LG went from being a happy student to an overworked overachiever twice, to a business owner in a field having nothing to do with his training. I became a father a few times over, moved across the country, and became addicted to finance the way I was once addicted to golf. What’s more–and without giving up too much–my job got in the way of my contributions to this blog. It simply wasn’t possible to do both tasks at the same time. So…we let it slip.
In the mean time, a few more things happened. LG grew into a new experience and relationship with the game that is, in some ways, far different from what we started doing, and, in other ways, a much deeper version of the same thing. In contrast, after 20 years of being an avid player, enthusiast, and equipment junkie, I grew jaded and cynical about the game. Things that were once fun and interesting to me grew to be a drag. It was as if I had seen behind the smoke and mirrors, to realize that what we know as golf was no more a magical experience than the Wizard of Oz. I still played, but the shine with which I once enjoyed the game grew apart from me.
This past weekend–prompted by a friend of the community–I traveled back to the east coast and played TPC Sawgrass. It was a long, painful flight. Although I had always dreamed of the moment I would step out onto that special layout, the course itself proved to be somewhat lackluster, and the greens were simply nothing special. I tweaked my back. I shot 14 shots above my handicap. And in that round and the few that followed, I lost over a dozen golf balls.
But I gained something in that trip. Meeting with two tremendous friends (one being LG), the spark lit for me yet again. The fire started. And it began to help me realize why we do this. Sure, playing for that record score is an exciting thing. Getting into competition is enjoyable. But that’s not why we do this. We do this to have something with which we can find common ground with our friends, relatives, and anyone else who feels the same way about the game that we do (or, in my case, did). We do this to have stories to pass on. We do this to get perspective on life through a game that exemplifies all of the faults of life. We do this to find those few truly special moments when we can say we did something different from the rest.
It matters little to me anymore that the veil of honor has been lifted from the world of golf, for me. I can enjoy this game for what I want it to be to me, despite the crooked politics, the dishonesty, and the douchery that pervades it. This game is personal. It’s mine alone to enjoy. Those things will not affect me unless I let them. Regardless of anything around me, I am going to continue to play and to love this game.
I’m hopeful that LG and I will have more time and energy to commit to sharing our lives in this game with all of you. Kids, jobs, life, and other commitments make it difficult. However, even if not, know that we’re still out there doing what we love. Because this game is it.
Lifetime On The Course: 20 Years of Golf
August 31, 2013
Today (Aug 31, 2013) marks my birthday and what I would call my 20th anniversary of “playing” the game of golf. It was 20 years ago today–on my ninth birthday–that my dad gave me my first “set” of clubs. It was a Northwestern Golf kids set which included a bulls-eye style putter, a driver and a 3-wood that I think had plastic as part of their crowns and probably were no bigger than a very small hybrid by today’s standards, as well as a 3-iron, 5-iron, 7-iron, and 9-iron (because a kid with a 45-mph swing speed needs a 3-iron, right?). Once I had gotten into my teens, my father actually sold that set–much to my chagrin, as now I have a small child and would love to have been able to pass along the memories to him.
As I embark on my next 20 years of golf, it amazes me how much things have changed in the game. When I started, golf was a hobby taken up by generally upper-middle class white men–and that was basically it. I was one of the lucky few who, although not upper-class, was guided by a few well-meaning individuals in my life to start this beautiful game. None of them could play worth a spit, but that didn’t matter–they enjoyed the time. My Dad had the good sense not to try to teach me a golf swing; instead, he brought home magazines from work that I would spend hours reading and trying out all the “tips” within. Back then, irons were either blades or PINGs (or “clones”). Woods were actually made of wood. If you used the word “hybrid” on the golf course someone would’ve thought you were from outer space. Everyone had an Odyssey Rossie with the black face insert, and we were just finding out about this guy named Scotty Cameron.
Twenty years later, everything is different. Clubs are commodities to be replaced and resold year after year. People actually get financially invested in golf clubs–particularly putters–to the tune of multiple thousands of dollars. Where before the “long” hitters could bang it out there 275 yards, nowadays you’re a short knocker if you’re under 300. Most of the people I play with have never even heard the word “balata,” and if I talk about a spoon they’ll think it’s utensil to go with breakfast. The diversity of the game has changed too. We’ve seen an influx of all types of people who want to learn this game, and, to some degree, an outflow of those who either thought it wasn’t worth the time or wasn’t worth the money for the interest level–both of which are good for the game.
Through it all, what hasn’t changed is the meaning of the game. Twenty years after I got “my first set,” I still look forward to what a day on the course means. It’s a reprieve from what else life has going on. It’s a chance to get to know someone and see how that person deals with both success and adversity–as you will without a doubt see both in any round of golf. It’s a chance to test your own competitive skills while finding out if you can maintain your composure under fire. It’s a chance to do something you’ve never done before.
I still look forward to my rounds with the same people I had twenty years ago. Four hours on the course with Dad is still four hours well spent, no matter how many balls he deposits into the abyss of trees and water hazards. Four hours listening to Uncle Jimmy talk about what’s going on in each of his grandchildren’s lives is still a priceless experience. Even playing a scramble here and then, I still think back to the 2-day scramble tournament my father and I would drive 9-hours to get to–and the year I was FINALLY allowed to play in it and, as the B-player, became the team’s anchor (over the A-player) by the 5th hole.
For all the time, money, energy, effort, and soul I’ve given to the game, it’s given me so much more than I’ve put in. Not only has it given me two jobs–one perhaps my dream job–it has given me a sense of how the world operates, an ability to interact and connect with others, and a lifetime of memories. There was any of the 5 aces that I’ve hit (will be covered in a later topic on this series), the magic 4-iron, the 8-iron through the window in the sky, or the 385-yard drive. There was Pebble Beach, Glen Abbey, Wolf Creek (and again, again, and again until I FINALLY broke 80!), Torrey, and Lake Chabot. There was Meadow Lane and Indiana Country Club with Unk and Nay. The was Atlanta International, Southland, and how Korean Air destroyed them. There was a best friend who broke two hosels in the same round, and another best friend who dared a bit too much during a range session. There was a broken ankle, a broken collar bone, and a scratched thumb. There was even a full-on threat to “beat you into the ground” from a muscular Jamaican wielding a 3-iron over his head.
For all the places life has taken me, golf has been there. I’m thankful for the time it’s given me and the joy I’ve received. I can’t wait to show my kids what the game is about.
Lifetime On The Course: Tournament Golf
August 23, 2013
It was said by the great Ben Hogan that “there’s golf, and then there’s tournament golf.” Amateur and pro alike have experienced the phenomenon. You can play any course on earth and, given the day, shoot within a few shots of your handicap. Play it 10 times and you might have one bad round, maybe 7 or 8 shots over your handicap. You’ll also have a few good ones, maybe 2 shots better than your handicap.
But play it in a tournament, and the world ends. Stuff happens that NEVER happens on a golf course. You see problems on the course that you’ve never noticed before. Fairways that were once wide and inviting now feel narrow and impossible to strike. You try to play a fade and it turns into a slice. You hit a provisional, try to hit the same shot, and it hooks.
Basically, Ben Hogan was right.
I played this week in the USGA’s United States Mid-Amateur qualifying tournament. Although my handicap still reads 1.2, I’m probably not better than about a 4 handicap on any given day. Still, I wanted to play even though I didn’t think I’d have much chance of competing. +1 was the final qualifying score.
I shot……87.
As a 1.2 handicap, this is an abysmal score.
Not only that, I really wasn’t that upset with it!
The first part of it is that I hadn’t played golf in awhile. This was my first round in over a month, so the rust was definitely there. I hit 6 GIR on the day and made two birdies, which is not bad. But the poor swings came out in odd spots, and the chipping just was nonexistent.
But a few things about my round got me thinking, which is the source of this post. During my round at the Mid-Am, a player declared a ball lost, taking the penalty, only to find it again later on the day….twice. On the first, we looked for 5 minutes then found the ball while walking to the provisional; the second time, the ball was STUCK IN A TREE and actually fell out of the tree when we came back around playing the adjacent hole. Neither of these happened to me.
It also got me thinking about my personal record in tournament golf, which is….not so good. In fact, it’s quite bad. But what is odd is the way that it’s bad.
You see, I’m a great starter, can be a good player in the middle, but am a lowsy finisher.
Over the course of the last 3 years (2011-2013), I have played in 17 amateur-level competitions. Taking the first hole from each tournament, I am -3 over 17 “first” holes–and that includes a triple-bogey. However, over each round, I’m an AVERAGE of +12.6, and a collective +214. Here are the tournaments (please bear with the formatting, as WordPress doesn’t handle it well).
Date------||Hole1||Score||Result|| Course || Tournament 05/09/2011 || -1 || +12 || DNQ || Dunwoody CC || US Open Qual 06/06/2011 || +3 || +05 || Qual || The Frog || Atlanta Open Qual 06/13/2011 || +1 || +21 || DNQ || Atlanta National || Georgia Am Qual 07/11/2011 || EE || +04 || DNQ || Cartersville CC || Georgia Open Qual 07/19/2011 || -1 || +10 || DNQ || Capital City Crabapple || US Am Qual 08/29/2011 || EE || +15 || DNQ || Brickyard at Riverside || US Mid Am Qual 10/06/2011 || EE || +13 || DNQ || Rivermont || Atlanta Am 04/09/2012 || EE || +29 || DNQ || Berkeley Hills CC || Georgia Mid Am Qual 06/11/2012 || EE || +08 || DNQ || Mystery Valley || US Am Pub Links Qual 06/11/2012 || EE || +07 || DNQ || Mystery Valley || US Am Pub Links Qual 07/24/2012 || -1 || +11 || DNQ || Piedmont Driving Club || US Am qual 08/06/2012 || EE || +08 || DNQ || St. Ives CC || US Mid Am Qual 10/04/2012 || EE || +18 || DNQ || Rivermont || Atlanta Am 04/08/2013 || EE || +08 || Qual || Berkeley Hills CC || Georgia Mid Am Qual 05/13/2013 || -2 || +17 || DNQ || Marietta Coutnry Club || US Open Qual 05/17/2013 || -1 || +13 || Championship || Savannah Golf Club || Georgia Mid Am 08/21/2013 || -1 || +15 || DNQ || La Costa Resort || US Mid Am Qual
ARE YOU SEEING THIS PF FANS? Amazingly, what was perhaps my best round (+5) started with a 4-PUTT triple bogey, but led to 5 birdies and a qualification for a local PGA event.
What is it about tournament golf? Take the first hole and put it together. Over 17 holes I’ve managed to shoot a good enough score to put myself in contention in basically any tournament at -3. But it breaks down.
I think part of this is the riddle of golf that we all need to understand and figure out. The challenge of competitive golf is that it gives a player a new facet to a game with so many great angles as it is. For those who have mastered or nearly mastered the game, tournament play is a new challenge to excite.
As you can see, I’m still learning how to be truly competitive, but I am loving the challenge. If anyone out there wants to help me understand it, please, go ahead in the comments below.
Lifetime on the Course: Golf in Streaks
June 10, 2013
Golf is an odd game. It seems that, as soon as you have it figured out, it eludes your grasp. We’ve all been there. You tell yourself to do something a certain way that’s different than what you did before, and it works. The light bulb goes on. Then, the remainder of your practice and rounds are spent working on that one thing–to a fault. Eventually, you’ve so overemphasized that one little swing thought that you have to try to undo it and go back to what you were probably correctly doing before. While we all might benefit from a lesson with a pro who is familiar with our games at a point like that, nonetheless, expense or time seem always to get the best of us.
Still, the ride is fun while it lasts.
About a year and a half ago, I posted of such a time in POTW 23. The ballstriking was on, and, but for a few really bad greens, I probably would have been posting some amazing numbers.
But truly good golf is something different. It’s not just a streak. Truly good golf is finding ways to play your best when you don’t have the whole package. And, lately, that’s what it feels like for me. I can’t say what’s different. I know that I’ve changed my mental approach to where now I no longer need a perfect drive to set up an approach to the green, and, often, from bad lies I’m willing to miss the green in the right spot to get up and down for par. Maybe after 20 years of playing, I’ve finally figured out what to do.
Truth is, I think it’s a complex mix of mechanics, equipment changes, and mental attitude. Altogether, it’s working. Three weeks ago, I shot a -2 69 (34-35) on a local muni. I played it again a few days later and shot a very poor 76 (36-40) that was very much hindered by slow play of juniors and seniors around the course. I played 9 holes with a friend and shot 34 (E par) on another muni and then played the same course a few days later, shooting 37-37 (+4). Then, this morning, I played the first muni again and shot -1 70 (34-36).
All of this has been done in very different ways. Some days, it’s lots of GIR. Some days, it’s scrambling. Today, it was 25 putts and nailing them down from everywhere. Even with lost balls, shots in the woods, you name it–I’m finding ways to stay around the E line.
Now, I take this with a grain of salt. All of this golf has been on a couple of pretty easy muni courses. But I’m encouraged by the play. Either way, I know it won’t last forever–and it doesn’t have to. Enjoying this ride while I’m on it is what the game is all about. There may be a bad streak some time (The Doldrums), so it’s important to enjoy the good times while they’re around.
Thank God that, for once, my good rounds are coinciding with non-aerated greens!
Lifetime on the Course: A Series of Milestones
December 21, 2012
For golfers, I find, it’s a progression. You start the game and can barely get the ball airborne. You hit that first shot flush and straight and it’s like water to a thirsty man. You find yourself addicted, at some point, waiting for that next “my best score” round.
It starts with breaking 100, making your first par, your first birdie, maybe even your first eagle. Then breaking 90, 80, setting a new personal best, breaking par for 9 holes, having a streak of pars-or-better in a row, or going a certain number of a rounds without losing a ball. We remember these moments–well, some of them.
I barely recall breaking 100–I was at Sugar Creek Golf Course in Atlanta. I believe I shot 94. I think I also had my first birdie ever during that round. I don’t recall much else–I was probably younger than 13. I remember breaking 90, although only vaguely. It was the only time I’ve ever played the Alfred ‘Tup’ Holmes golf course in Atlanta. I had 15 bogeys, one double-bogey, and two pars to shoot 89. I broke 80 at a course that no longer exists called “Atlanta International.” Kind of a sad state of affairs the way that course went under–more on that at a later portion of the series. I was probably 16 or 17 when this happened.
My first “under par” round was at Bobby Jones Golf Course when I was in college at GA Tech. I went out on a muddy afternoon and walked with 3 young professionals who were all riding and drinking beer. I remember talking with one of the guys and saying “it’s been a pretty good round” at about the 14th or 15th hole. He said “have you made any birdies?” I responded “I’m three under right now.” Clearly, it was not being noticed. I shot -1 that day (2 bogeys coming down the stretch).
My two best rounds to date, however, both came about in 2010. Oddly enough, they both happened while I was searching for a new set of irons, and with both of them I got rid of the irons shortly thereafter.
Perhaps what I’d call my best round of golf ever occurred in April 2010. I decided to play with my wife’s uncle at Mystery Valley. In this round, I used a set of Mizuno MP-67 irons that I had just bought a few weeks earlier. Perhaps my best position relative to par was when I walked off of the 10th green, at -4. I don’t believe I’ve ever been further under par than that. I almost sunk the eagle putt too, from 35 or so feet, double-breaking almost 10 feet at the end. I had 5 birdies, and I still maintain I got screwed on the 17th hole, when my GPS told me I had 160 yards out and I ended up flying the green, the bunker behind the green, and going about 15 yards into the woods with an 8-iron.
Funny–I remember thinking the round started out badly, and thinking it might be a rough day when I had to save par on the 1st and 2d holes and was wide right on the third. When I chipped in on the third hole, though, my mindset changed–now, I thought, this might be a good day after all. 33 on the front side and an even par 36 on the back side had me breaking 70 for the first time in my life. Pretty awesome, all things considered.
The only round that could rival my Mystery Valley performance was my performance later in the year at Lanier Golf Club. This round is STILL the only round for which I have not made a single bogey during the entire round. Only three birdies–and I was working with a -2 round for most of the day. The greens were terrible, and even though I hit a lot of quality golf shots, I did not do a lot of scoring. Still, I managed to work my way around the tightly tree-lined fairways and finish with an under-par round of -3, 69. This was with a set of MP-32s that–I convinced myself later–I hit “too far” and ended up selling to LG, who then sold to another person. They were, in fact, pretty tremendous irons.
What’s interesting about both of the rounds: great ballstriking was a premium. Although we often think of great putting and chipping as the key to the game, in this case, ballstriking was necessary. Hitting 12 and 14 greens per round, respectively, certainly gave a HUGE advantage.
Regardless, you remember these moments for what they were. These moments on the course were ones I can tell my kids some day, ones I can brag about when I need a story, ones I can say “when I shot 69 here, the pin was there.” Not everyone has the opportunity to say that with respect to breaking 70, but everyone has that moment in their golfing careers. For me, it took 18 years to shoot an 18-hole round without a bogey–and in the two years since, I still haven’t done it again. But the game is a series of milestones, some easier to remember than others, some bigger deals than others, but each one another piece of the legacy of your time on the course. And those achievements are what we chase every time we play this great game. So go out there and find your next one. It might be closer than you think.
A Lifetime on the Course: Crazy Golf
December 14, 2012
Many golfers have stories of the odd things they’ve seen. From drives that bounced off carts and back into the fairway to balls that skipped over lakes, the “rub of the green” just happens sometimes.
People often ask me what the craziest thing I’ve seen in golf is. I’ve seen a total of eight holes-in-one, five of them my own. There will be time to talk about those later. Two of the three others were hit at Mystery Valley Golf Course, my original stomping grounds for the game of golf. The first one I saw was by a 75-year-old man who hit a 9-wood 145 directly at the pin on the 16th. When I said “that might’ve gone in” he shrugged it off. In fact, it had gone in. The second was clear as day, and we all watched the ball roll into the hole on the 2nd green.
Aside from aces, I’ve seen a lot of weird and crazy stuff. I was once threatened by an angry Jamaican wielding a golf club. I flipped a golf cart going about 40mph and somehow lived through it. I worked at a course with a fellow who grew marijuana at the back of the range. I even played golf with one of my best friends who had, not one, but two golf club heads snap off at the hosel during a round. I’ve had people dive out of the way of golf balls 100 feet over their heads. (all of these will be covered at some point)
But perhaps the craziest of crazy golf was the third ace I witnessed. I tell the story often because, frankly, if it weren’t real, it wouldn’t be believable.
During college I worked for a company outside of Boston, Massachusetts. It was a recurring internship wherein I went to school one semester, went to work the next, went to school the next, and went to work the following until graduation. My second semester at work was in the Fall of 2004. Although I wasn’t a tremendous golfer–maybe a single-digit handicap at the time–I still loved the game.
The local municipal golf course was Juniper Hill Golf Course. This is still one of my favorite municipal tracks, as it was always maintained at least playably well and was a fun layout of 36 holes. Neither of the courses were particularly long, but the land features were unique and challenging, as well as quite beautiful for the Massachusetts countryside-ish.
One afternoon, I decided to play the Lakeside course. This was probably my more preferred of the two courses. It is still one of the only courses I’ve played with a par 3 starting hole.
This particular afternoon, I was paired up with Ed and Dave. Why I still remember these folks’ names, I have no clue. Nonetheless, Ed and Dave both were very friendly. They clearly knew each other. I learned during the round that they had done business together for years but this was the first time they had met in person.
Ed and Dave were both experienced golfers, but I was playing a little more seriously than them, stepping off yardages and paying attention to wind directions. Ed and Dave started asking for my help on some of their shots, which I gladly obliged. Why not tell them the yardage if I had already determined it?
The 14th hole at Juniper Hill’s Lakeside course is on the edge of the property, just before the lake. It plays entirely over a marsh, as seen in the view below:
It’s NOT the hole on the top where you see the sand trap in front of the green. It’s actually on the bottom, where the green is just in front of the trees and is partially shaded. You can see the cart path on the edge of the marsh leading from the tee box (about 180 yards) to the green. This cart path is the last part of the property before the lake.
This hole is the #1 handicap on the course because of the long carry over water. It’s 206 from the blue tees and 180-ish from the whites. On this day, the tees were playing up at the whites. I stepped off the yardage to roughly 175 yards.
Dave asked me “how far is it?” I replied “it’s about 175-180. I would put a 5-iron in your hand.” Dave grabbed his 5-iron, teed it up, and hit it a good inch thick. The ball waddled in the air, clearly without enough distance to get to the green. It sailed down into the marsh.
As I was about to move my gaze, I saw the ball bounce up out of the marsh. I told Dave to “hold on.” It landed on the green. It rolled toward the flag. “That might be in the hole!!” I said to Dave. He shrugged me off–“no way,” he said. “I don’t know. That looked close, and I don’t see the ball,” I replied.” “It probably just rolled over the back” I said. I walked up to the green as Ed dropped and hit his second ball (he had already hit in the marsh). I looked around behind the green. No ball. I looked in front of the green. No ball. I wanted to respect Dave that, if he did hit an ace, he be the first person to see it. When he got to the green, he started looking around for the ball as well.
“Why don’t you look in the hole?” I asked. Dave did, and, shocked, found his golf ball. Cheers went up. He was ecstatic. I was the only person with a camera phone (this was 2004), and I took a photo on it of Dave pulling his golf ball out of the hole. A GREAT memory.
“What happened?” I thought. I walked down to the marsh, and roughly 5-10 yards short of the green in the marsh was a piece of granite laying flat. It was no bigger and no more curved than a dinner plate. Other than that, nothing could have deflected Dave’s ball. I called him over and pointed it out. Dave, Ed, and I all laughed, as we all knew his ball was about 10 yards short of the green from the tee box.
In other words, Dave hit a hole in one by chunking a shot off the tee, landing it on a dinner plate roughly 165 yards away, and having it bounce up and into the hole.
And THAT, my friends, is what’s crazy about golf.